Berlin-Sundin Railway to which the old man had confided the fragile bark of his fortunes. It seemed some confirmation of this opinion that latterly, when the almost worthless shares had become, in consequence of the new and dazzling prospectus, an object of the wildest speculation, and had consequently risen to double their value, the old gentleman's cheerfulness had returned also, and he had even ventured upon some of the dry witticisms which he only uttered when he was in the brightest spirits. Cilli said that now everything went well with her, and Reinhold, as she asserted this with her sweet smile, tried to stifle another and much worse anxiety--an anxiety which he had once hinted to Justus, whereupon the latter had replied in his careless fashion: "Nonsense! Love is a weakness, angels have no weaknesses; Cilli is an angel, and so--basta!" He found Cilli alone in the modest little sitting-room, in the act of arranging the tea-things on the little round table in front of the hard, faded old sofa. She performed such small household duties with a confidence which would have quite deceived a stranger as to her infirmity, and with a grace which always had a fresh charm for Reinhold. She would not permit any assistance either. "It is cruel," said she, "not to let me do the little that I can do." So he sat now in the sofa corner, which was always his place--the other belonged to her father when he came in from the office--and looked on as she came and went with her gliding step, and as often as she returned to the table seemed smilingly to bid him welcome again and again. "Where is Justus!" asked she. "He has just gone to dress." "How far has he got with you?" "I shall be finished to-morrow, or the day after." "Then it will be my turn; I am looking forward to it so--I mean to the portrait. I should so like to know what I look like. However often I do so"--she drew her soft finger slowly along her profile--"and that is just like looking in the glass, yet you never know how you look till a great artist shows it to you in your portrait. Justus is going to do me in life-size too." "But he might have given you that small satisfaction long ago." "It is not a small thing, even though he does work so wonderfully quick," answered Cilli eagerly; "every hour, every minute is precious to him; he owes them all to his work. Now that he can make use of me for his work, it is different of course." "Do you know then, dear Cilli, what we all look like?" "Perfectly; you are a tall man, with curly hair and beard, and a broad forehead, and blue eyes. Justus is not so tall, is he?" "He is a little shorter, dear Cilli." "But only a very little," Cilli went on triumphantly; "and his hair is not so thick, is it?" The last words were said with some hesitation. "Not at the temples, dear Cilli."